Harry Potter and The Carnival of Crime
by wtchcool
Summary: Because trying to clear his name wasn't enough, Harry has to work with Malfoy, talk with Ginny, and save his best friend from Lord Voldemort. Maybe dealing with Snape wasn't so bad... Sequel to The Cape of Kozmo, which means crossover, AU, non-magic, and some level of Snarry, because I can. Takes place before TCK's epilogue. R&R!
1. Fred & George Part 3

"Harry Potter and The Carnival of Crime"

By: Wtchcool

Beta: IronAmerica

_Disclaimer: If I owned The Cape, you'd associate David Lyons with the show, not with the (undoubtedly doomed) upcoming series "Revolution." If I owned "Harry Potter"… you know no good can come of daydreaming about all that money._

_Here are a few things you may need to know, or maybe, you just forgot: Harry Potter, loving husband and father, was framed by his new boss—Severus Snape, the CEO of ARK Corporation. Now, everyone in Palm City believes that Harry was the masked murderer known as Chess, before he died in an explosion. Unbeknownst to them, Harry was not caught in the explosion, and Chess' secret identity is Snape._

_ Now a fugitive, Harry is driven by the desire to clear his name so that he can go home to his family—his wife, Ginny, and son, Albus. To that end, he is bringing to life his son's favorite comic book superhero, "the Cape." His allies in his fight against Snape—the Carnival of Crime, consisting of Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, Ron, and Sirius Black, and the mysterious blogger he knows only as "Orwell."_

_ He doesn't know Orwell's real name is Hermione, or who her father is._

_ When we last saw the Cape, Chess had hired Tarot assassins Fred and George Weasley to kill him. While they have yet to succeed, they did accomplish one thing that Chess never did—they know the vigilante's secret identity._

_Fred & George Part Three: Moving On_

Freddie and Al sat in the darkened apartment, eating ice cream straight from the carton. (Well, who knew how long the blackout would last? It would be a shame for all that ice cream to melt…)

"My dad said he was going out for cigarettes," Freddie volunteered in between mouthfuls. "He never came back. Now it's just me and my mum."

"Oh," the other ten-year-old replied.

"What happened to your dad?" Freddie asked.

Al looked at him. Was it possible that his new friend hadn't heard the vicious rumors about his father?

"My dad was a police officer. He died in the line of duty. Anything else you hear is a lie!"

"Okay. Have you gotten over it?"

"What?" Al asked.

"Well, I've gotten over my dad being gone. What about you?"

Al stared out the window a moment before responding.

"Yeah; I'm moving on."

~HP~

Across town, Harry and Hermione had realized who was behind the blackout.

Fred sat in the van, talking with George over the headsets as his brother stalked through the darkened building in search of the vigilante, night vision goggles in place.

"So, afterwards, for dinner," Fred began.

"Are you buying?" George interrupted his twin.

"Yes, George? George?!" Fred frowned. He'd lost transmission. The door of the van slid open a moment later and he sighed in relief. "George, what happen…?" The assassin trailed off. That wasn't his brother. That was a very pissed off blogger.

~HP~

Ginny Potter came home to find her son lying on his back with a stomachache and an empty carton of ice cream next to him. But what really surprised her was the other ten year old boy lying next to him in similar distress.

"Al, who is that?"

"This is my mate Freddie," Al replied. Ginny smiled. Finally, a friend who wasn't imaginary, or a backstabbing traitor like Malfoy had turned out to be.

"That's good. We can use all the friends we can get."

~HP~

_100 Miles East of Palm City, Twenty-four Hours after the previous rendezvous._

Severus Snape met George Weasley at the appointed hour.

"Where's the cape?" Snape asked, referring to the agreed-upon proof of the assassination. In reply, George held out his knife, on which a sliver of blue fabric had come off. Snape plucked the threads from the blade.

"Funny, I imagined it being a lot bigger," Snape drawled. He knew what this meant, although, really, the fact that the other twin was missing had tipped him off. The brothers had failed in their mission. The Cape was still alive.

Snape kept the relief off his face. He was, as far as George was concerned, the same man who had ordered the hit on the vigilante the day before. No one, with the exception of his therapist, Dumbledore, knew that Chess was a separate personality.

Snape was going to keep it that way.

"We need more time," George replied.

"You had twenty-four hours," Snape shot back.

"They took Fred—"

"Then you could finish the job by yourself."

"I can't. We're a team. Look, I do have something," George reached for a USB drive he had around his neck, the one with all of the brothers' data on the Cape.

"Enough," Snape interrupted him. "You failed in your mission. Now it's over. You can tell your masters that I'm never hiring anyone from Tarot again."

~HP~

George met with Potter and Orwell in the diner he'd watched them in before. Again, the vigilante was in his standard civilian gear, complete with ball cap and hoodie to hide his face. Weasley passed the USB drive over to Harry.

"It's everything we found out about you," he explained. "We keep files on all of our victims and take their secrets to the grave. We won't tell anyone who you are."

"Not even Snape?" Hermione asked.

"Especially not Snape," George frowned, thinking of the brush off he'd gotten earlier. "Now: Where is my brother?"

"What makes you think I'm going to tell you?" Harry asked. George glared at him.

"Owl Island; we took him to Owl Island Prison," Hermione said.

"I see who wears the cape in this relationship," George smirked.

"Relationship? What relationship?" Harry asked.

"Harry," Orwell sighed. George started to stand.

"Hey. I don't want to see you or your brother in my town again, do you understand?" Harry warned the assassin.

"Oh, I think we'll meet again. So long for now, Mr. Cape," George waved to them on the way out of the diner.

**Author's Note: Thus ends episode 6. Anyone ready to read about the Dark Lord?**

**I am pleased to announce that my beta, IronAmerica, gave me the go-ahead to post the chapter as-is.**

**Some of you may be wondering what's going on, since it was only a couple of days ago that I ended The Cape of Kozmo due to a lack of reviews. Well, dem bones persuaded me to give it another go, so here it is: I will only continue this fic if I feel that the reviews and alerts warrant it. It's not like I don't have other fics to work on, people.**

**If you're confused, the epilogue I wrote at the end of TCK hasn't happened yet. We might not get to it. We certainly won't get to that point if things continue as they did with TCK.**

**Alright, enough ranting for now. Let me thank Orwell, the Crimson Mage, and dem bones for reviewing TCK's epilogue. And thanks to IA for continuing to serve as beta!**


	2. The Dark Lord Part 1: The Dead Will Rise

_The Dark Lord Part One: The Dead Will Rise_

Lavender Brown strolled through the parking lot of the rental shop she owned. It had been a quiet evening, so far. If no more customers turned up, she could probably shut the doors early…

The sudden appearance of a man in front of her startled her. She hadn't heard his approach. His appearance sort of gave her the creeps for some reason. Maybe it was the out-of-date hat he was wearing on his head or the pallor of his skin, or perhaps it was something about his eyes.

"Can I help you?" Lavender asked.

"I'd like to rent a truck," the man replied. So he could speak! He probably wasn't a phantom, then.

"Then you came to the right place," the young woman answered.

"How about that one," the man pointed to a nearby truck, "with the spraying equipment on the back?"

"No problem," Lavender managed to smile. "What purpose are you renting the truck for?"

"…Agriculture," the man supplied.

"Okay, I just need to see some I.D., and then I'll fill out the paperwork."

The customer handed her a driver's license. It said his name was Pius Thicknesse. Lavender hurried into the booth where she kept her desk and punched the name into her computer. Then she frowned as an error message popped up reading: DECEASED. Shaking her head, she jogged back over to the man and handed him back the apparently fake I.D.

"Okay, now I'm going to need to see some _real_ I.D. This one says you're dead."

"I am dead," Thicknesse replied.

"_What?_"

In answer, Thicknesse lifted up his hand, full of some sort of powder, and blew it into her face, so she'd have to inhale it. Lavender coughed, and then slumped to the ground, her eyes wide, but unseeing.

"The dead will rise," Thicknesse proclaimed.

INSERT THEME MUSIC

Albus was absorbed in his videogame, as his mother watched on from the kitchen. Harry sat near Al on a chair, waiting for Al's turn to be over.

"Don't skip my turn again," Harry chided his son. Al didn't react.

"Do you want any popcorn, Al?" Ginny called from the kitchen.

"Yes," Al called out.

"Me too," Harry added, and then his eyes returned to the television screen. "Hey! You just skipped my turn again! Al? Al?" The boy didn't answer him. Harry went into the kitchen and stood next to his wife.

"Al, your fingers are going to become stuck to the control if you keep on like that," Ginny teased her son. She didn't react to her husband's presence beside her.

"Ginny?" Harry asked. She didn't respond. "Look at me, Ginny. LOOK AT ME!" But the redhead would not look at him. She kept looking at their son, as if, as if…

_They can't see or hear me,_ Harry realized with horror.

"Ginny, I'm not dead! I'm still alive! I'm not dead!" he repeated in growing desperation.

Harry woke up to hear banging on the door of his hideout. He took a moment to get his bearings. He was not at home with his wife and son. They still believed he was dead because he hadn't disabused them of that notion. (Well, he'd tried with Al, hadn't he? As the Cape, he'd told the boy that he would see his father again someday.)

Harry got out of bed to answer whoever was incessantly knocking and found Mad-Eye Moody and Ron on the other side. He stepped back to allow them in.

"Potter, you have to come with us. There's something you have to see. Leave the cape. We need the cop," Moody informed him.

~HP~

The three men stood at an open grave in the cemetery, the coffin before them recently unearthed.

"It's Lavender Brown," a miserable Ron told his best friend. "A girl I used to date. They found her body two days ago. It looked like she was strangled, but an autopsy would've been against her parents' religion, so they had her buried yesterday without one."

"And someone dug up her grave today," Moody added. Harry lifted the lid of the empty coffin to examine it.

"No, she dug herself out," the former cop corrected him.

"What?" Ron asked.

"There are scratch marks and blood on the inside of the lid, see?" Harry indicated. "She was buried alive and she clawed her way out."

"Then where is she now?" Weasley wondered.

~HP~

"You're talking about miles of shoreline property," Mayor Cornelius Fudge stated. He was seated at an outdoor restaurant table with Neville Longbottom and Severus Snape.

"I know what I'm talking about. That's why I'm offering you seven billion dollars for it," Snape replied, trying not to let his irritation show.

"Excuse me, but if you buy the ports, who would inspect your ships?" Neville asked Snape.

"The local authorities," Snape replied.

"But you _are_ the local authorities," Neville pointed out, facing the CEO. "What are you going to do, check your own passports and then set sail?"

"What Longbottom means—" Fudge began.

"I know what Longbottom means, what I want to know is why Longbottom is here." Snape narrowed his eyes at the secretary of prisons. "Last time I checked, I wasn't offering to buy a prison."

"The _ports_ come under the _Port_ Authority," Neville answered, reminding Snape that he was also in charge of said agency.

"Fine; I don't need this. I can take my business to somewhere else, perhaps Tottori, Japan."

"Japan's seventeen hours ahead of us," Neville responded without missing a beat. He plucked his cell phone down on the table in front of Snape. "Here, give them a call," he called his bluff.

Snape made no move to pick up the phone.

"The offer will be open for forty-eight hours," the billionaire told the mayor. "Make no mistake I will _kill_," he stared at that thorn in his side, Longbottom, "this deal," he finished.

~HP~

Later that day, Neville sat on a bench near the pier. Hermione, a ball cap pulled over her head and headphones on, jogged up to him, and then sat down, pretending to stretch and adjust her shoes.

"Pull out your sandwich," she muttered to him. "You're being watched." She nodded to men in the distance, presumably Snape's. Neville suppressed a shudder and took out his lunch as he was told.

"I thought Orwell was coming," the secretary muttered. Hadn't his message been clear? He'd wanted to speak directly to the blogger.

Hermione suppressed a sigh. If only he knew.

"Orwell didn't save your life from frog toxin, I did," she said, reminding him of his close call with a Tarot assassin. "What do you have for me?"

"These are Snape's clients," Neville passed her photos of overseas terrorists. "He sells arms and drugs. He's now put in a bid to buy Palm City's ports. If he's successful, he'll be able to smuggle his products out of the country without anyone there to stop him.

"So I went scouring the records to see if I could find something, an obscure law or a violation Snape might've committed, something to keep him from buying the docks. I was coming up empty-handed, until I turned to the chain of title." The chain of title would record how ownership of the property had changed hands from one owner to another over time.

"Up until a few decades ago, all of that land belonged to the Riddles," the city's founding family. "When they all died in a plane crash, without leaving an heir, the city took over the property without having to buy it from anyone. But, check this out," he handed her a newspaper article. There were two photographs of Merope Riddle: One showed her heavily pregnant, the other with a flat stomach. The caption was: "**WHERE'S THE BABY?**"

"Merope was pregnant, but photographed getting onto that plane when she was no longer pregnant. No one ever knew what happened to the baby; they assumed there had been a miscarriage. But what if there wasn't? What if there's an heir out there that the ports lawfully belong to?

"I found this when I was looking through the chain of title," Neville handed her a document labeled "Record of Birth."

"Tom Marvolo Riddle?" Hermione asked, reading the name aloud. "Who is that?"

"Someone who doesn't officially exist," Longbottom explained. "No birth certificate for him was ever filed. But if you find him, the missing heir…"

"Then Snape wouldn't be able to buy the property from the city, because the city wouldn't have title to it."

"Exactly," Neville concluded.

"I'll post this to the blog within the hour," Hermione reached for the file he'd brought.

"Is that necessary?" Neville asked, suddenly afraid of the repercussions. Snape had already tried to have him killed for standing between him and the prisons. If he found out that Neville was also keeping him from getting the ports…

"I understand your concern for your safety," Hermione assured him. "Knowing Snape, it's justified. But posting this to the blog is the best way to get someone who knows about Riddle to come forward. So, may I?"

Neville hesitated and then handed the evidence he'd uncovered over to the woman.

~HP~

Moody, Ron, and Harry climbed onto the abandoned bus. It appeared that the bus had become a shelter for vagrants, but the only occupant using it now was…

"Lavender!" Ron exclaimed, running to her side. She opened her eyes, but didn't focus them. "Lav-Lav, it's me! Ron! Remember, we met at that party?"

She didn't seem to recognize him.

"Does this bus go to the parade?" she asked.

"Parade?" Ron repeated. "No, no there's no parade."

Hysterical, she bolted to her feet and started spouting gibberish.

"I have to find the parade. I serve him. He wants me to go to where the land meets the sea!" Lavender babbled.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"The Dark Lord," Lavender whispered.

Harry took a step towards her and she struck at him. Moody came to Potter's aid; he put the young woman in a chokehold, shocking Ron.

"Moody, what are you doing to her?"

"Just making her sleep," Moody reassured him. He let go of Lavender after she lost consciousness.

"Did you catch the name she gave?" Ron asked.

"The Dark Lord," Harry repeated.

"You've heard of him?" the redhead questioned.

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

"Good. Tell me his address," Weasley cracked his knuckles.

"I can't. I don't think the boogieman has an address."

**Author's Note: Welcome to part one of The Dark Lord! The actual title, "The Lich" spanned episodes seven and eight, so this story arc may be as long as six chapters. Of course, we're not ever going to get to the end of that arc if the story doesn't get reviewed. I do hope that wasn't too subtle for you. I'm only posting this now because, sadly, the first chapter had more reviews than the recent updates to either of my other works-in-progress.**

**But on the plus side, I get to post an update to a Cape fic on the night of NBC's pathetic attempt at replacing it, Revolution. Therefore, if you do nothing more than read the fic rather than watch that drek, I must thank you.**

**Thank you to IronAmerica for beta-ing the chapter! Thanks also to dem bones, Orwell, and IA for reviewing!**

**(Incidentally, as some of you may know, tired of the wait, I posted the first ever Pence MV to YouTube.) **


	3. The Dark Lord Part 2: Zombies

_The Dark Lord Part Two: Zombies_

"Wait!" Remus called.

Ginny Potter paused. She was just about to leave work and head home, but her boss had caught up to her before she could reach the door. Katie Bell, her best friend at the office, followed Lupin as he approached her.

"Ginny," Katie began, "we're just headed out for drinks. You should join us."

"I'd love to," Ginny replied, "but I've got to get home. I've got to see to—"

"Objection, your honor," Remus addressed Katie, "but I know for a fact that counselor's son is staying at a friend's tonight. So she has no reason not to come with us."

Ginny was taken aback. Alright, yes, Al was staying at Freddie's. Maybe she didn't have to stay home this evening, but she had been trying to politely say no without outright saying she wasn't interested. She had half a mind to just tell him to bugger off.

But that'd be a really lousy idea, seeing as how Remus had given her the job when no one else in Palm City would touch a Potter. Besides, she hadn't had a night out since before Harry had… Well, maybe it would be good to get out of the apartment for a change.

"Okay," Ginny folded her arms over her chest. "Let's go."

~CAPE~

They took Lavender to Trolley Park. Ron frowned. He had no idea what to do for her now.

"I've seen this before," Moody informed the younger men. "It's a psychoactive drug. It induces susceptibility to suggestion, paranoia, and paralysis."

"So it creates zombies," Harry said.

"We need to get her to a doctor," Ron interjected.

"She doesn't need a doctor. She needs a surgeon of the mind—me," Sirius said, coming up behind the group. He clasped Ron's shoulder briefly before approaching Lavender's prone form.

"You said you know who did this to her?" Ron asked Harry. The hero sighed.

"Look, every precinct in the city has a file labeled: 'the Dark Lord.' Whenever you have an odd unsolved case of kidnapping or murder, where there was something inexplicable about it, you add it to the file. The Dark Lord's just a myth, like the boogieman."

"It's not a myth," Ron disagreed. "I've heard rumors about guys who were hired to move this kind of drug in the city. Only they tried to cross the dealer and then they disappeared."

"Even if there was somebody the myth was based on, we wouldn't have a clue to go on," Harry pointed out. Their eyes tracked to where Sirius was working with Lavender. Maybe they did have a lead, after all.

Sirius was sitting by Lavender, holding one of her hands, and trying to hypnotize her.

"I serve the Dark Lord," Lavender protested.

"I know. And the Dark Lord wants you to cooperate with me. Now, we're going to go on a journey in your mind. Tell me what you saw…"

A distraught Lavender, reliving the experience, recounted as the men in masks and hoods attacked her as they stole the truck. She broke off and started whimpering, but Sirius strove ahead.

"Where are you?" he demanded.

"Trolley—track 12," she gasped out.

"Alright; rest now," Sirius instructed her.

"I know where that is," Harry told his friends. "I can lead you there."

"I should stay with Lavender," Ron said.

"Go," Sirius told the redhead. "I'll watch over her."

~CAPE~

Moody, Harry, and Ron walked along the dark tunnel where Lavender had been taken by her kidnappers. It was a really, really dark tunnel and dirty and probably had insects and spiders…

"Hail Mary full of grace…" _Um_… "What's the rest?!" Ron asked.

"Relax, Ron. There's no one here—" And of course Harry had to speak too soon. These tracks were supposed to have been abandoned. Yet there was definitely an oncoming trolley. The pedestrians threw themselves to the sides of the tunnel just in time.

Harry's heart stopped racing after the threat had passed and he'd found that the three of them had survived unscathed.

They continued walking along the tunnel until they came to a room. It looked like it was being used as a storage facility. Harry frowned. They'd found a stash of the toxin that was used on Lavender.

"Harry, take a look at this!" Ron called. There was a map tacked to one of the walls, and on it traced in red—

"That's the parade route," Harry said. "The Founders' Day parade is the day after tomorrow. Millions of people turn out for that. And these terrorists have a truck with spraying equipment on the back. They're going to spray the citizens along the parade route with this stuff…"

"Turning them into zombies," Ron finished. "Zombie-terrorist sounds like a rotten combination."

"Too bad you can't call off the parade," Moody grunted.

"Maybe _I_ can't, but I know someone," Harry said. Oh god. He'd rather hoped he wouldn't have to work with that slimy, back-stabbing git again.

~CAPE~

Katie, Remus, and Ginny were seated at a table, laughing.

"Do Judge Slughorn!" Katie urged Lupin.

"Court will now take a recess for lunch. Where's my crystallized pineapple? Bailiff! Secure the crystallized pineapple in my chambers!" Lupin imitated the judge. The two women giggled.

Lupin smiled at Ginny, reached out and covered her hand with his. The redhead was startled and pulled her hand away.

_Oh, Merlin. He was flirting with her. _This was so wrong.

"It's getting late. I have to go. Goodnight," she babbled as she shot to her feet.

"Ginny!" Lupin called after her as she hurried away.

~CAPE~

Draco Malfoy walked through the parking garage to his Mercedes. He unlocked the door and got into the driver's seat, ready to leave ARK and head home to his family. Then he gazed into his rearview mirror and saw that he wasn't alone. The Cape was in the backseat. Malfoy swore and pulled his gun on the vigilante.

"You!" Malfoy spat.

Harry raised his gloved hands to show they were empty.

"Malfoy, the Dark Lord is real."

"What?"

"He's real, he's got an army, and he's going to release a toxin on the crowds at the Founders' Parade. You have to cancel it."

"Me? Even if I believed you, I can't cancel it."

"Oh that's right. You're only the Chief of Police. Why don't you grow a pair and stand up to Snape?"

"Hey, you can't talk to me like—"

"There are going to be families at the parade, Malfoy. Your family is going to be there, right? You can't ignore this."

"Do you have any proof?" the blonde asked. The Cape nodded.

"Yeah; if you come with me, I'll show you what I've found."

~CAPE~

Malfoy glanced from the map to the toxin canisters.

"You said this creates zombies," he bit his lip.

"What's the matter, Malfoy? You have a dead guy that's mad at you?" Harry taunted his betrayer.

"That's it! I've had enough of you!"

"You want to take me on?" the Cape asked. "Fine; you name the day and the time, but not now. Not when we have to find the Dark Lord before he puts his plan into action."

Malfoy nodded.

"Alright," he said, agreeing to a temporary truce.

~CAPE~

Back at home, in bed, Ginny sobbed.

"That wasn't flirting," she said to herself. "It's… too soon. Oh god. You were always so jealous," she addressed her husband's spirit. "I feel you watching me, Harry. Judging me as I try to raise Al. I'm trying, I'm doing my best, but it's just so hard!" she cried.

"I miss you so much."

~CAPE~

The day after Hermione had uploaded Neville's information about the missing heir to her blog, she received a video in reply. The blogger played it.

_"Hello, this message is for Orwell. My name is Bellatrix Lestrange. I'm a nurse at St. Mungo's Sanitarium. Tom Riddle is here, Room 236. I've got his admission papers_," she held them briefly in front of the camera.

"_They're trying to keep him hidden, but it's not right. You have to come, but please be careful! He's not supposed to have visitors."_ The screen went blank as the video ended.

Hermione tapped out a quick reply: "I'll send a reporter."

~CAPE~

"Mr. Snape," Malfoy entered his boss' office.

"Yes?"

"We need to cancel the Founders' Day parade."

"Excuse me? This parade is our celebration. We are founding a new era for the city. We can't cancel it."

"We can if we have to for security reasons."

"We _are_ the city's security," Snape retorted. "You want to announce that we can't ensure peoples' safety at the parade?"

"We received a tip that a terrorist is planning to attack the parade-goers with biological weapons."

"And who did you receive the tip from?" Snape's black eyes bored into Malfoy's.

"The Cape," the younger man answered eventually.

"You got the tip from the Cape. Did it occur to you that the Cape is the terrorist you should be watching out for?"

"I'm prepared to look into that, but I still…"

"Prepared to look into that?" Snape repeated. "No. You'll do what I say and arrest the Cape or you'll leave your badge on my desk."

"Sir," Malfoy turned on his heel and left Snape's office. Alone, the billionaire looked at the empty seat across from him. Well, at least it was physically empty. He saw his other half, Chess, sitting there.

"Kill them," Chess advised.

"No. Go away," Snape ordered the apparition.

"Kill them _all_," Chess suggested.

"All of them, even the Cape?" Snape asked.

"Especially the Cape," Chess answered. Severus shouldn't get so attached to that vigilante.

~CAPE~

"Orwell sent a woman?" Bellatrix Lestrange didn't bother to conceal her disappointment from Hermione.

This was the second person to have that reaction in two days. The blogger was getting pretty tired of this sexist shite. If it didn't help her hide her identity, she'd put an end to the belief that the blogger was male.

"Summer Ferrin," Hermione introduced herself. "Are those the admission papers you showed in the video?"

"Yes," Bellatrix handed them over reluctantly. "He's in Room 236. But—"

"He's not supposed to have visitors, I get it. I'll be careful," she replied before hurrying up the stairs. She located Room 236 and slipped inside.

"Hello?" she called. "I'm looking for Tom Riddle."

"There's no one here by that name. This is my room," a man replied. Hermione drew closer. He appeared to be a good looking man, brown-haired, chiseled chin. He looked as if he was no more than a year or two older than she was, but she knew from the date of his parents' deaths that that couldn't be true. He was sitting in an armchair, a blanket over his legs. Hermione was left with the impression that the limbs didn't work properly.

"Oh? Have you been here long?" Hermione asked.

"Not very long," the patient replied. Hermione looked pointedly around the room, full of the stuff he'd accumulated over time, including piles of books and papers, and—her eyes widened. There was a crib in one corner. The poor man had been here since he was a baby, hadn't he?

"How about I open a window?" Hermione suggested.

"There's a breeze from that window. Not really a breeze, it's more like an air current—careful!" Riddle admonished her. She'd stepped over one of his piles on her way to the window, nearly knocking it over. "I have everything in order!"

"Okay," Hermione said. She turned to a book on top of one of the stacks. "The Lindbergh baby," she observed.

"Not much of a tragedy, if you ask me," Riddle said. "He was what? Twenty months old when he was taken from his parents? Enough time to get to know their faces, their voices, to begin to talk and walk. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me."

"What's this?" Hermione asked, picking up a sheet of paper from another pile.

"No! Don't touch that!" Riddle exclaimed.

"Did you do this?" Hermione asked, examining the drawing. "It's really good."

"It's the design for a building," Riddle admitted. "I have nothing but time here so I make plans. Not that any of those plans come to fruition."

Hermione sat in a chair opposite him.

"You know what? I think you _are_ Tom Riddle," she said. The door to the room opened, revealing Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Tea?" she offered.

~CAPE~

Ron stopped by Harry's hideout, to find the vigilante at work on the computer. Harry was reading about Orwell's hunt to track down Riddle. There seemed to be some connection to the Dark Lord. One of the Dark Lord's victims had been the Riddles' estate lawyer.

He left a message on his partner's voicemail. Then a chirp went off, startling the redhead.

"What was that?"

"It's just my phone. Relax," Harry picked up his headset, put it on, and answered the caller. It was Malfoy!

"We found the truck. How fast can you get here?" the blonde asked.

~CAPE~

The Cape looked around warily as he approached the truck. He didn't see anyone in sight, but he figured he should be cautious. The last time he'd shown up somewhere after telling Malfoy where he would be, he'd been ambushed and then framed for Chess' crimes.

He reached a gloved hand out to open the door to the truck's passenger compartment, and came face to face with an ARK officer. Before he could turn around, Harry was surrounded by ARK policemen, their weapons trained on him.

Malfoy walked through the ranks to him and handcuffed the Cape.

The Benedict Arnold was betraying him again! Perfect; could this day get any better?

**Author's Note: This chapter has not been beta'd, so by all means, quibble away.**

**Thanks to Orwell, dem bones, and IronAmerica for reviewing!**

**Once more, if you're enjoying the fic, please check out **_**The Cape**_**. The series is on DVD, and the episodes are still online. If you like the show please spread the word.**

**-Boycotting NBC.**


	4. The Dark Lord Part 3: Tea and Plans

_The Dark Lord Part Three:_ _Tea and Plans_

Draco ushered the Cape into the backseat of his car, after he'd handcuffed the vigilante's hands in front of his body. (Ostensibly, this was so Draco could keep his eyes on the illusionist's hands at all times. Word of the Cape's abilities as an escape artist had spread, so the excuse had gone unquestioned.)

The chief of police drove for a while, his eyes frequently darting to his rearview mirror.

"Here," he tossed the handcuff keys to the 'prisoner,' once he judged they were far enough away from the other ARK employees. The Cape quickly ditched the manacles.

"I hope you're not expecting a thank you," the vigilante groused. From the tone of voice, Draco was certain the mask concealed a raised eyebrow. He frowned. If the two didn't keep butting heads, the hero would probably get along great with his boss. They seemed to be more similar than they would ever admit.

"I had to do that for appearances," Malfoy pointed out. He couldn't openly defy Snape.

"What, you had to waste time while the Dark Lord is preparing a massive attack on the city? Please tell me you're cancelling the parade."

"I can't," Malfoy responded. "But look: There's no way he'll be able to gas the parade-goers. We've arranged top-notch security. _Nothing_ that isn't supposed to be there is getting through."

Harry considered the last statement, the wheels in his head turning.

"Nothing that isn't supposed to be there," he repeated. But if something appeared innocuous, as if it were part of the festivities… "Turn the car around! Now!" he ordered his former partner.

~CAPE~

Bellatrix poured the tea for them, as Riddle explained some of the reasons his plans for developing the city were doomed to failure.

"I have plans. I have scars on my body from where the orderlies would beat me. I have tremors from all the stress, all the night-terrors. I don't have hope.

"Why should I? Snape owns more than half of Palm City as it is."

"You keep up with the news, then?" Hermione asked. Then she chided herself. Maybe he was holed up in this institution, but that didn't mean he was cut off from the rest of the world. She shouldn't have assumed.

"News," Riddle shook his head. "I'd hardly call what gets written about him news. You can't find an impartial story when the reporters are all in his pockets."

"Not all of them are," Hermione said, quietly but firmly. Riddle turned to look her in the eyes. He nodded after a moment, as if satisfied by what he saw there.

"Who did you say you were looking for?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle. There's a certificate of birth, but it was never filed," she handed the document she'd gotten from Neville to Riddle. "We file this, and you can claim your inheritance. You can keep Snape from taking control of the docks."

Riddle examined the papers. Then he looked up at her.

"You never featured in any of my plans. You could actually make them a reality. Why would you help me?"

Hermione looked at the crib in the room. It looked like she had finally found someone who could empathize with the tragedy that was her childhood. Certainly here was another person who hated her father.

"Because maybe I understand what it's like to be an orphan," she said aloud. She didn't, of course. But she had lost her mother and she would prefer to think of her father as dead than to think about who he was.

~CAPE~

The Cape and Malfoy burst onto the scene. Sure enough, the ARK employees that had been left to guard the truck had been knocked unconscious. Others were guarding the truck now, no doubt ones who worked for the Dark Lord.

The two quickly subdued most of them. It was surreal for Harry, working with Malfoy again. It was almost like old times—except, of course, for the mask on his face and the cape he was using as a weapon.

Now only one man was left to be dealt with: Pius Thicknesse. If anything, he proved easier to restrain than the men who had been reporting to him. At first this confused Harry, but Malfoy quickly spotted the reason.

"Look at his eyes. He's been drugged."

_Just like Lavender was_, Harry thought.

"The dead will rise," Thicknesse pronounced.

"What?" Malfoy asked.

"The Dark Lord will claim what is his," Thicknesse parroted his master.

"Who is the Dark Lord?" the Cape demanded.

"Tom Riddle," Thicknesse replied.

Harry's heart started pounding. Riddle was the Dark Lord. Orwell had gone alone to find Riddle, and she still hadn't returned his phone call. Oh god. What had she gotten herself into this time? He had to find her!

~CAPE~

Riddle had gone back to looking at the certificate of birth.

"Kidnappers didn't bring me here," he observed. "My parents did," he handed her back the document, with his parents' names on it.

"They left me here, an unwanted child. But they didn't expect the little boy to have a knack for chemicals. Neither did the orderlies who used to bully me. But they learned their lesson," Riddle stood up from his chair at last, surprising the blogger who had assumed he was crippled.

"Especially," Riddle continued, "the chair of St. Mungo's, Pius Thicknesse." Revenge was sweet. But Riddle wasn't finished with his speech. He began telling the reporter about the birth defect he'd been born with.

As he spoke, he took off his wig, and then started peeling off his face—no, not his face, Hermione realized quickly. Riddle had been wearing a mask. Without it, far from looking handsome, he barely looked human. There were only slits where there should have been a nose. His eyes gleamed menacingly as he continued.

"They say my mother, Merope, screamed for two days after she saw me." The Dark Lord blew his powdered toxin into Hermione's stunned face before she could retreat.

"When will you stop screaming, my dear?" Tom addressed her seemingly lifeless body. Hermione lay upon the floor, staring at nothing, her mouth contorted in a silent scream.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Author's Note: And so alternate episode seven draws to a close.**

**Once again, this chapter has not been beta-d.**

**Thanks again to Orwell, dem bones, and IronAmerica for reviewing!**

**Did you know that Monday was The Cape's night? Are you content to allow NBC to give Mondays over to Revolting? **

**Let's show NBC that we won't settle for Cape-lite. **

**-Six Seasons and a Movie!**


	5. The Dark Lord Pt 4: To Have and To Hold

_The Dark Lord Part Four: To Have and To Hold_

_ Hermione stood gazing at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She was trying on a wedding dress—white, full embroidered skirt, and strapless. An engraved tiara supported the veil that fell over her coiffed hair and down her back. _

_ The two best friends that she'd had growing up—Melissa and Dasha—were with her. They very much approved of the selection._

_ "Yes! This is the one," Melissa assured her. "It's beautiful."_

_ "I don't know," Hermione hesitated. _

_ "What do you mean you don't know?" Melissa asked._

_ "She's just nervous," Dasha said. _

_ "Don't be. It's the happiest day of your life! You're getting married!" If the other bridesmaid's demeanor was anything to go by, she was more excited about the wedding than the bride-to-be._

_ A sound made Hermione turn her head. _

_ "Is that my phone?"_

_ "Hermione, focus; you have to say yes to the dress!" Melissa insisted. Dasha nodded._

_ "Okay, yes," Hermione decided at last. She returned to her reflection and gazed at it. "I'm getting married," she repeated._

~CAPE~

In reality, Hermione had an I.V. full of the Dark Lord's toxin strapped to her wrist. Bellatrix, having already gotten Hermione into an old white gown she'd dug up from somewhere (probably rescuing it from destruction-by-moths just in the nick of time), put heels onto the drugged blogger's feet. Lestrange had already placed a veil over the now lank brunette hair, so the shoes finished the job. Finally, the nurse pushed the catatonic Orwell along in a wheelchair, I.V. drip and all, down the hallway toward the waiting groom.

The Dark Lord hated to be kept waiting.

INSERT THEME MUSIC

Harry pulled out his cell phone as Malfoy read Thicknesse his rights a few yards away. The vigilante dialed Orwell's number.

In a bunker in another part of the city, the Dark Lord looked at the caller I.D. on the cell phone: The Cape. So there was someone else in Palm City that used a handle. He might be interested if he wasn't suspicious of anyone trying to contact his fiancée.

"Orwell?" Harry asked when his call was answered.

"_Guess again_," the Dark Lord replied.

"Where is she?" Harry snarled.

"_Leave us alone. Don't try to find her_," the Dark Lord commanded before ending the call.

The Cape tucked his phone away and then he whirled to face Thicknesse. He grabbed the man away from Malfoy and shoved him up against a beam.

"Where's the Dark Lord?" the vigilante demanded.

In response, Thicknesse started reciting the _Miranda_ rights that he'd just been read.

Harry reared back, preparing to hit the bastard and make him listen, but Malfoy distracted him.

"Hey! What are you doing? I just arrested him!"

"He didn't act alone. They've got a hostage," the Cape replied before turning his attention back to the criminal. "Where is the Dark Lord?" he asked again.

Thicknesse wasn't answering, though, and Malfoy pried the suspect away from the vigilante and led him into the back of his car.

~CAPE~

Back at his hideout, Harry made an improvised fingerprinting kit out of a candle, a balloon, and some scotch tape. After he lifted Thicknesse's fingerprints from his chest plate, he scanned them onto the computer and logged into ARK's database with Malfoy's username and password. (The blonde really should update his password at some point.)

The search results brought up Thicknesse's career at St. Mungo's before his supposed death.

~CAPE~

Malfoy entered the interrogation room and dropped Thicknesse's file on the table in front of him.

"You look pretty good for a dead guy, Mr. Thicknesse," Draco began. "Specialized in child psychology; graduated top of your class; you were the administrator of St. Mungo's Sanitarium for twenty years. Makes me wonder what went wrong," Malfoy concluded his speech by tossing a newspaper article accusing the administrator of corruption in front of the prisoner.

"Those charges didn't stick," Pius pointed out after glancing at the headline.

"Well, these might because the _chief of police_," Malfoy pointed at his chest, "caught you loading weaponized neurotoxins onto that truck. But I know you didn't act alone. Why don't you talk to me?"

"You know, in my home country, farmers raise sheep. The sheep will follow the sheep in front of them—even to slaughter," Thicknesse replied.

"Are you calling me a sheep?" Malfoy asked, affronted.

"We're all sheep. The Dark Lord is my shepherd. And I will follow him…"

~CAPE~

_Hermione was seated outdoors, no longer wearing the wedding gown, but rather a peach-colored dress. She looked around. There were at least a dozen tables set up for dinner. No, not for dinner, for a wedding reception, she realized._

_ "Is this all for us?" she asked._

_ "I hope so," Harry replied, smiling. "We're the ones getting married."_

_ She looked at Harry. For a change, he wasn't wearing either the costume or what she'd thought of as his civilian clothes. He was dressed…nicely, actually, like he didn't have to hide anymore._

_ But he couldn't have to hide anymore, or they couldn't be getting married in public… She frowned, confused._

_ "You're not getting cold feet, are you?" he asked._

_ "No, I just, I can't remember how we got here." Come to think of it, she couldn't remember Harry proposing to her…or dating her. She looked off to the side and saw a white door standing incongruously in the middle of the outdoor setup. _

_ "Where does that door lead to?" she asked._

~CAPE~

In reality, the Dark Lord gazed at Orwell, as the I.V. drip continued to feed the toxin to her.

"I added a sedative to the toxin," he informed her, "to help with the tremors. Do you know why I chose you? You told me that you were an orphan, too, and I thought to myself: _She understands._

"And that was before you knew how handsome I really am," the Dark Lord smiled. He hadn't put his mask back on. He'd probably torn it as he'd taken it off, anyway.

"We'll be billionaires, now that you've recovered this piece of paper," he continued, picking up the certificate of birth. "I've spent so long looking for it. And now I will be able to claim my inheritance.

"We'll need to have servants. This formula here," he gestured to the compound, "is tasteless. It can easily be added to drinking water, or a beer at Riddle Stadium.

"The toxin will cause seizures," he explained. "For seventy percent, the seizures will prove fatal. The other thirty percent will be our willing slaves. I'll let you choose your own servants.

"What's that?" he asked, leaning closer to the brunette's still body, as if she had spoken.

"You want me to marry you?" he asked. "Well, that's a big commitment. Will you be loyal to me?"

~CAPE~

Harry, in full costume, crouched outside the gates of St. Mungo's with Ron and Moody.

"Julia," Harry began, using the name that Orwell had used when introducing herself to the Carnival of Crime, "was investigating Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord. I think he may be holding her hostage in there, but I don't know how many guards there are or how they're armed."

"Don't worry, Potter. That's why we brought our dates," Moody replied. He and Ron both raised their shotguns.

The three made their way inside. They started up the staircase to the second floor when Harry spotted Orwell's cell phone on the landing. It started ringing and he answered it.

"Hello?"

"_I __told__ you not to look for her_," the Dark Lord hissed.

Abruptly, some of the Dark Lord's minions surged forward to attack the trio.

"Don't shoot them!" Harry called to his companions. "They're drugged!"

Accommodating their friend, Ron and Mad-Eye limited their use of the weapons to pistol-whipping and clubbing their opponents. Harry, for his part, mostly used his fists, though he did kick one opponent down the stairs.

There was a tense moment when one foe came rushing in with an axe, but Harry used the cape to grab hold of the handle and tear it from the man's arms.

Once they had defeated their adversaries, the three men made their way to the second floor and began searching for any signs of Orwell.

All they found was one of the blogger's shoes.

"Damn it!" Harry exclaimed in frustration. "The Sanitarium was all I had to go on and she's not here!"

"Too bad you didn't get any answers from Thicknesse, mate," Ron said. Harry's head shot up.

"Maybe I still can. I have a friend in the Public Defenders' Office…"

Moody caught Potter's meaning.

"Is that a wise idea, Potter?"

"Maybe not, but I don't have a choice."

~CAPE~

Al was sitting on his bed, working on his math homework (for a change). A sound from his computer made him look up. The monitor of the camera that Freddie had helped him install showed that he had a visitor—the Cape.

Al quickly abandoned his homework and went to the window.

"You came back. Where were you?" the ten-year-old asked.

"I'm sorry it's been awhile, Al. I've been busy. I need your help."

"You need my help?" Al asked, his green eyes going wide.

"I need to speak to your mother," the Cape admitted.

"My mum?" the boy asked, stunned. He'd thought the vigilante had been avoiding her.

Al went into the kitchen where Ginny was going through the refrigerator, trying to figure out what to have for dinner.

"Mum, the Cape's on the roof. He wants to speak to you," Al told her.

Ginny nodded absent-mindedly and inspected the contents of the Tupperware.

"Is this old egg salad or a science experiment gone wrong?" she asked her son.

"Mum, you're not listening! The Cape wants to meet you!"

"You want me to go to the roof?" she asked, closing the door of the refrigerator. She'd really hoped her son would have stopped seeing his imaginary friend by now.

"Yes!"

"Alright, let's go."

~CAPE~

Ginny and Al finished climbing up the fire escape to the roof. Night had fallen and the evening air was cool. The attorney glanced around. She didn't see anyone. Perhaps now she could convince her son that the vigilante was only in his imagination…

"Mrs. Potter?" a voice rasped.

Ginny swung around towards the source of the voice and saw a masked man crouching on the roof's ledge. Her eyes widened in shock, she clutched the boy to her protectively, and began to scream.

"Al! Get inside and call 911!" she yelled.

**Author's Notes: I am so, so sorry about the one-sided Voldemort/Hermione! Brain-bleach is on me.**

**Anyhow, so begins the Potter version of episode 8. Odd pairings aside, it is a favorite episode, inspiring "In-Laws," and "Leap for the Cape," among other fics.**

**Thanks to IronAmerica for beta-ing the chapter! And thanks to dem bones, Orwell, and IA for reviewing!**

**Ah, Revolting is finally off the air! :) …What do you mean it's only for this week? Damn it! We should make the debates a weekly thing.**

**You know the drill. Review if you want to read more.**


	6. The Dark Lord 5: In Sickness & in Health

_The Dark Lord Part Five: In Sickness and in Health_

"Mum, you're embarrassing me!" Al moaned.

"What do you think you're doing, talking with my son?" Ginny whirled on the man playing dress-up. Do you realize he just lost his father?" _How dare this man play on Al's obsession with the comic-book superhero? Who was this creep? And, oh, why hadn't she paid more attention to Al when he had said that he had met the Cape?_

"It's not like that," Harry protested, as his wife looked at him accusingly. He wasn't some madman shadowing a random ten-year-old. Now if he could just convince Ginny of that…

An idea came to him. He used the cape to snatch the comic-book out of his son's hands and followed that up with a smoke bomb and a disappearing trick.

Ginny and Al gaped at the place where the vigilante had been crouching a moment before.

"Mum, you scared him away!" Al complained.

"No, I'm still here," Harry rasped, from the ledge behind them. The other Potters turned to face him.

"That was brilliant," Al grinned, eliciting a smile from his hero.

Ginny stared at the hooded figure. The skills he'd just used…they were straight out of that comic book. Was it possible he was the real thing?

"Mrs. Potter, I need your help. A plot to attack the Founders' Day Parade with biochemical weapons was foiled earlier. ARK arrested a suspect, Pius Thicknesse, but he wasn't working alone. They've kidnapped a friend of mine.

"I need your help to get access to Thicknesse so I can question him."

"You're mad. I can't just sneak you into a police precinct—"

"If that was a real precinct, if ARK was doing real police work, I'd agree with you," Harry interrupted the redhead. "But it's not. Please, lives are at stake."

"Mum, lives are at stake!" Al echoed, tugging on her arm.

"I'll… I'll think about it," she said.

Al turned to the vigilante.

"Cape, that's not good. When she says that, it means no," the child explained.

"In your heart," Harry said, turning his gaze to his wife's, "you know I'm right." _You know you can trust me_, he added silently.

Ginny was caught by those green eyes, so like her son's. Her resistance crumbled under their intensity.

"Alright, I know someone who can help. Let me give him a call."

"Thank you," Harry rasped. Al approached him.

"Most of the time, she's pretty cool," Al confided, indicating his mother.

"Yeah," Harry smiled. "Yeah, she's pretty cool."

~CAPE~

The Dark Lord put a record on and began twirling Hermione's limp form about the room with him, careful to keep from dislodging the I.V. cord as they "danced" to the music.

"This 'Cape' that tried calling you, he came looking for you. I don't like him," Riddle whispered in her ear. "What's that?" he asked, as if the comatose blogger had spoken aloud. "You don't like him either? He's a stalker? How awful!

"Don't worry. I'll protect you."

_The outdoor band (more like an orchestra) that had been hired for their wedding started up. Harry led Hermione away from the table and they started dancing._

_ She should've been happy. But her lack of memories was frightening her, as was that goddamn white door in her vision. She pulled away from Harry and picked up a knife from the nearest table._

_ "What are you doing?" Harry asked her._

_ "I have to know if this is real," she replied. She sliced her hand open with the knife. Blood trickled out of the wound, crimson contrasting with her fair skin. She looked dismayed._

_ "No pain," she observed, _which meant_, "none of this is real_." _Petrified, she let the knife drop from her hands._

_ Unperturbed, Harry turned her to face him and lifted her chin so she would look at him._

_ "Can we finish the dance anyway?" he asked as the violins continued playing._

~CAPE~

Ginny waited in the garage of the ARK holding facility for her boss to show up, rehearsing what she would say to him. The Cape was hiding in the, well, rafters, she supposed. He was supposed to wait for her signal before showing himself.

Finally, Remus arrived.

"Ginny, what's the big emergency?" Lupin asked. Before she could answer, the Cape dropped down from his hiding space, landing in a crouch and startling the older man.

"Remus, this is the Cape," Ginny spoke quickly. Maybe if she spoke fast enough, the craziness of the situation wouldn't occur to him. "He's a friend of my son's. He has his own comic book!

"Cape, this is Remus Lupin, my boss."

Harry inclined his head towards the man in acknowledgment. He didn't really care for Lupin. At least, the man was a rival for his son's affection and possibly also his wife's.

"He needs to get inside and speak to Pius Thicknesse in Interrogation," Ginny continued, oblivious to the jealousy emanating from the hero.

"What?" Lupin stared at her. "We can't help him. I'm not even Thicknesse's attorney. He refused representation earlier."

"That doesn't matter!" the Cape called down, ready to launch into an explanation of how imperative it was that he get inside. Before he could, Ginny shushed him, took Remus aside and started whispering to him. Harry caught a few words: _"Millions of people will die."_

Finally, apparently convinced, Remus turned to face the costumed man.

"First of all," Lupin began, "you're wearing a mask and that's strange." Maybe it was just the mask that was making him feel somewhat intimidated. "I don't suppose I can convince you to take it off and put on a suit and tie? No?" He sighed. "Alright, come on. We'll use my keycard."

~CAPE~

Once inside the building, Lupin started giving the masked man instructions.

"The guards follow a certain rotation. Once you get in, you'll have about fifteen minutes before the next guard comes to check on him.

"I expect you to follow standard police interrogation procedure."

"Thank you," Harry rasped, as Lupin led him down a hallway.

"Don't thank me. I'm not doing this for you. When Ginny tells me something, I listen."

Harry's eyes narrowed. He was Ginny's husband, not Lupin. But he couldn't exactly say that aloud.

The Cape slipped into the interrogation room while Lupin watched from behind a one-way mirror.

"Tell me where the Dark Lord is or I'm going to bash your head in," the Cape threatened Thicknesse.

Ginny, who had lagged behind, chose that moment to catch up to Lupin, closing the door behind her.

"How's he doing?" she asked.

"Well, he definitely knows standard police procedure," Lupin answered wryly.

~CAPE~

"Your partner already tried to question me. If you're going to play good cop, bad cop," Thicknesse began.

"He's not my partner," Harry interrupted the man, backing him up against the wall. It seemed it had been a lifetime since Malfoy had been his partner. "And I'm not a cop," the vigilante continued. He was terribly close to the suspect now. If the former administrator wasn't drugged, he'd probably be concerned about his well-being.

Lupin, watching from the mirror, was getting nervous.

"Easy, Cape; standard interrogation procedure," he muttered. Since the Cape couldn't hear him, it was about as useless as attempting to communicate telepathically, but he couldn't help it.

Lupin didn't quite get a good look at what the Cape did next. It looked like he'd set off a flash grenade in front of Thicknesse's face.

"You and I are linked now," the Cape intoned, imitating Sirius. "We're going to go on a journey in your mind."

"Did he just hypnotize him?" Lupin asked Ginny.

"I serve the Dark Lord," Thicknesse stated, sounding less coherent than he had a few moments ago.

"As I wish to, too," Harry assured him. "But I can't if I don't know where he is."

Alright, he kind of doubted that, even hypnotized, Thicknesse would fall for that trick, but it couldn't hurt to try. When the Dark Lord's follower wouldn't answer, Potter tried a different tack.

"What happened to your family?"

"What about my family?" Pius asked.

"Your wife, your children: No one's heard from them in years. What happened?"

"I…" Tears started forming in Thicknesse's eyes. "I tried to baptize them in the name of the Dark Lord. But my master said they weren't worthy. So they stayed buried." The tears fell before he continued.

"But I still serve my master and he has finally gone home."

"Home," Harry repeated. It clicked. The old Riddle home, of course. "Sleep now," he commanded Pius.

Ginny laid her hand flat against the one-way mirror. On the other side of it, the Cape laid his gloved hand over hers, only the sheet of glass separating them.

"Thank you, Mrs. Potter," he rasped. The lights in the interrogation room flickered and went out. When they went back on a second later, ARK guards burst into the room.

They found only Thicknesse, asleep against the wall.

~CAPE~

Riddle looked at his reflection as Bellatrix helped him with his bowtie.

"Bella," Riddle began. "I'm practically a married man now. It's not appropriate for an old woman to live with a married couple, so after the wedding, you'll have to move out," he told her. If he registered how insulted she was, he didn't give a damn. Once her hands dropped to her sides, he strode from the room.

Bellatrix hastened to wheel the blogger to the table where the Dark Lord was already seated.

"A little meal before our wedding, I hope you enjoy it, my dear," Tom smiled. Then he caught sight of the bowl in the middle of the table and his smile vanished.

"What is that?"

"A lemon centerpiece," Bellatrix replied.

"I asked for lilies," Riddle hissed. Picking up the centerpiece he hurled it to the floor, where the bowl shattered.

Bellatrix bent down to pick up the broken glass.

"Is it too much to want lilies on the table on my wedding day?" he barked at her.

She shook her head.

"Do you hate me, Bella?" he demanded.

"No, I don't hate you. I serve you, my Lord!"

"Well, you have a funny way of showing it!" He stormed out of the room and out of the building, intent on picking the flowers himself.

After he'd left, Bellatrix turned on Hermione.

"Do you see that? You don't know how he gets! _I'm_ going to have to calm him down now!

"He doesn't love you. You're just new. He'll get bored with you," just as he'd gotten bored with Bellatrix.

"You're just a slut. I hope you enjoy that dress," Bellatrix continued. "I'm going to bury you in it!"

Hermione's only reaction was a slight twitch of her fingers in the direction of the I.V. tube inserted into her wrist.

~CAPE~

_Hermione was once more dressed in the wedding gown that her friends had helped her pick out. Now she and her bridesmaids were standing outside the church, waiting for the ceremony to begin._

_ Dasha looked down the path._

_ "Hermione," the bridesmaid spoke up, "your father is here."_

_ "What?" Hermione froze. That was impossible. But she turned around and sure enough, there was her father._

_ Severus Snape was walking straight towards her, a smile on his face._

**Author's Note: Obviously there is some overlap between this and "Leap for the Cape," but that's to be expected.**

**I want to thank IronAmerica, Orwell and dem bones for reviewing! This chapter has not been beta'd, so if there are errors, let me know.**

**Now, I was having a little conundrum in that, in addition to NBC, I wanted to boycott the sponsors of Revolting. This was made rather difficult in that I was unable to find out the identities of Revolting's sponsors without violating my boycott against NBC. However, IronAmerica, detesting the latest commercial spots, has begun the list for me with Toys R Us, I believe? **

**-Fans Are Fighters, Too. Suit Up; Fight Back.**


	7. The Dark Lord 6: 'Til Death Do You Part

_The Dark Lord Part Six: 'Til Death Do You Part_

"_What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here!" Hermione wailed once she'd caught up to Snape._

_ "I'm here to give you away. Isn't that what fathers do?" Severus asked, his smile never wavering._

_ "I don't want you to be my father!"_

_ "But I am, and no matter who you marry, you'll always be my daughter. You can't escape your genes, darling."_

_ "Where is mum?" Hermione asked. The rational part of Hermione, the part that knew this was a drug-induced dream, knew the dream version of her father couldn't tell her anything she didn't already know. But the rational part of her had been struck silent by his appearance._

_ "She's where she's always been," he said at length._

_ "What did you do to her?"_

The Dark Lord put the flowers he'd picked into the brunette's limp hands.

"Your bouquet," he explained, as if she could understand him. "It's time."

~CAPE~

"You know, Potter," Mad-Eye said, as he and Ron stood outside the gate of the Riddle home with the vigilante, "I usually don't do two shows in one evening."

"Thank you for coming," Harry said. His friends lifted their shotguns. He shook his head. "No, leave your dates here. The Dark Lord's men are drugged. I don't want you to shoot them."

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Ron asked.

"I thought you were looking forward to busting some heads?"

~CAPE~

Bellatrix wheeled Hermione down the aisle, towards where Riddle waited with the priest. Witnesses (some of them former patients of St. Mungos, others former employees, and all of them as high as a kite) were arranged in rows facing the front.

_The musicians had moved inside. After her bridesmaids had marched into the chapel, Severus escorted Hermione down the aisle, towards where Harry, beaming, waited with the minister._

"Do you, Summer Ferrin, take…"

_"…Harry Potter to be your lawfully wedded husband?"_

_ "I do," Hermione answered._

"And do you, Tom Riddle, take Summer Ferrin…"

_"…to be your lawfully wedded wife?"_

_ "I do," Harry answered._

_ "Then by the power invested in me, I now pronounce …"_

"…you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," the minister finished.

The Dark Lord bent towards his bride, ready to kiss her. For the first time since the ceremony had begun, she moved—away from him.

"HARRY!" Hermione blurted as she flinched away.

"What did you say?" Riddle hissed. Anger made his veins throb. Even in her drugged state, the bride seemed to realize she'd made a mistake.

"Tom—"

"Don't call me that!" the villain yelled. "Call me the Dark Lord. That's what I am, so that's what you should call me!" She didn't love him after all. She'd only let him think that she had, when she was really in love with some tosser named Harry.

"Bella, take her away. Give her twenty CCs of the paralytic, and then bury her!"

Obediently, Lestrange wheeled the bride back down the aisle.

~CAPE~

Ron kicked one of the Dark Lord's followers down the stairs before the trio descended them into the basement of the house.

"Feeling better?" Harry asked.

Ron thought about it, and then nodded.

The door they'd just come through slammed shut behind them, locking automatically. They would have to find another way out. As they proceeded searching the place, Harry informed them that Riddle's father before him had been a chemist who had worked in that very house and reminded them about the deadly toxin Riddle had prepared.

"Thanks for telling us this after we've gotten ourselves locked into a basement with no circulation," Ron quipped.

Moody frowned as he observed how dreary the setting was.

"What kind of monster was born here?" he asked.

"This kind," Riddle responded, entering the room with two of his minions.

As the Cape surged forward to confront the Dark Lord, Moody spoke to Ron.

"You take the two on the left."

"…There are only two of them!" Ron pointed out. Still, he moved to intercept the nearest of them. "This is for Lavender!" he announced, as his fist made contact with the man's head.

~CAPE~

"You just had to try to steal him for yourself, didn't you?" Bella accused the blogger. She didn't notice when the young woman's fingers, which had been twitching on and off all evening, finally grasped hold of the I.V. needle inserted in her wrist and yanked it out.

Lestrange picked up a gag, one that had often been used on Tom as he was growing up in the Sanitarium, when the orderlies would restrain him. She brought it towards the reporter's mouth.

"Bite down, honey."

_Harry tried to spoon-feed his new wife._

_ "Hermione, have some cake."_

_ She wouldn't take it. She frowned. _

_ "You don't know my name!" Her eyes went back to that mysterious door and this time, she walked up to it to open it._

_ "Orwell!" Harry shouted, abandoning use of her real name since she'd pointed out that his real self was not supposed to have this information._

_ "I have to know," she said, half to herself, as she pulled the door open to see what was on the other side._

Bellatrix had decided to forgo use of the gag after all. Didn't matter; the whore was already stoned; she wasn't likely to scream much as she was injected.

Lestrange lifted up the syringe, but was stopped by Hermione's hand seizing her arm.

"You want him?" Hermione Snape asked. "You can have him!" Her hand over the nurse's, she drove the paralytic into Bellatrix's neck.

But the exertion was too much for her, and Hermione slumped to the floor afterwards.

~CAPE~

"I should warn you," the Dark Lord addressed his masked opponent, "one of the side-effects of my condition is that I can't feel pain." He demonstrated this by casually picking up a knife and slicing his hand open, unknowingly imitating Hermione's act in her dream.

Harry looked behind Riddle and formulated a plan.

"When you wake up," Harry began, "you tell me if you felt this!" He flung out his cape and grabbed hold—not of Riddle, but of the armoire behind the man, and brought it crashing down on the monster.

Once the Dark Lord was knocked out, the Cape ran off in search of Orwell.

"Orwell!" he cried. "Orwell!"

Hermione looked up.

_She saw Harry, her groom, kneeling over her._

_ "Are you okay?" he asked_.

She couldn't see the mask he was wearing or the costume that went with it; couldn't see past the hallucination of him in her mind's eye.

"Harry, you were here all along, weren't you?" she asked, as he lifted her up. She passed out in his arms.

~CAPE~

Ginny unlocked the door of her apartment, and was surprised to see her son waiting up for her.

"Al, what are you doing up? It's," she checked her watch, "ten o'clock!" It felt later than that. Even so, the ten-year-old should've gone to bed.

"Mum, how did it go?" Al asked.

She sighed and sat down next to him.

"It…went well. I think he got what he needed," she reported.

"He's pretty cool, isn't he?" Al asked, smiling. Ginny nodded.

"Yeah, he's pretty cool," she agreed. Her conscience attacked her. "Al, I'm so sorry I didn't believe you when you'd said you'd seen the Cape. I should've listened to you."

"Mum, I don't know if I can forgive you," Al said solemnly. "But, an extra-large pizza, with pepperoni, might help your case."

"You want pizza at this hour?" Ginny exclaimed. Then she remembered that she'd left with the Cape before putting up dinner. Although Al could've taken something from the fridge, like that egg salad she'd found. It had looked kind of disgusting, though…

"Alright," she relented, getting up to call the pizzeria, "but just this once!"

~CAPE~

The next day, back at Trolley Park, Moody tipped tea into the brunette's mouth. Hermione swallowed some, and then spluttered.

"What is that stuff?" she demanded as she sat up on the Carnival's couch.

"It's a special blend; has healing properties," Moody grunted. "Of course, it did kill Alexander the Great, but those Greeks tend to overdo things." He reached for his flask and took a swig of whiskey.

Hermione looked around and spotted Harry.

"What happened?" she asked him.

"I took Riddle back to Owl Island. The Dark Lord won't be bothering anyone again.

"But he's still the heir to his family's property (may he enjoy it from prison), so Snape won't be able to buy the docks from the city." She'd been successful, though the victory had come at a hard price.

"That just leaves one mystery," Moody interjected, putting away his flask "Who is this young lady?"

"Mad-Eye, I told you. She's…" Harry trailed off, wishing he had a real name to put with her face. "A friend," he said at last. "She's a friend."

Hermione looked between Harry and Moody. They were her friends; they had saved her life. She couldn't tell them who she was, but there was something she could tell Moody. He deserved that much.

"I'm Orwell," she admitted, looking Moody in the eye.

He whistled.

"That's quite a secret you kept, Potter."

"I learned from the best," Harry replied.

Moody took Hermione's hand and kissed it.

"Welcome, Orwell, to the Carnival of Crime."

He left the tent afterwards. Harry took his cape and wrapped it around Orwell's shoulders.

"Rest," he instructed her.

She nodded and went back to drinking the tea. It might be foul-tasting, but if it kept the hallucinations from coming back, it was a small price to pay.

**Author's Note: I'm ending episode 8 there. I'm the one typing this version and I say enough of the bloody door already! Newsflash NBC: No one wants Orwell to be a few bats short of a belfry.**

**Once again, this chapter has not been beta'd.**

**I would like to thank dem bones, Orwell, and IronAmerica for reviewing! In regards to IA's review, of course I would never want to discourage anyone from donating to Toys for Tots. I merely want to discourage Toys R Us and other businesses from sponsoring Revolting. I believe toys can be purchased from other vendors and then donated, but correct me if I'm wrong.**

**Anyone looking forward to the HP version of Razor? You know what to do. In the meantime, I'm going to read Rowling's new book.**


	8. Carrow Part One: Gang War

_Carrow Part One: Gang War_

Ginny Potter was walking her son home from school one afternoon. They were currently in the business district of Palm City.

"So, how did your history report go?" she asked.

"It went well," Al shrugged.

"It did?" Ginny asked him. It wasn't that she didn't think he could do well, but she had to make sure he was applying himself.

"Yeah; can I play X-Box when we get home?" the ten year-old asked.

"After you do your homework," his mother replied.

"Mum, you have to give my brain a rest—" Al argued, as they began to cross the street in front of the local library. Their apartment building was merely a couple of blocks away.

As they started across, a gold-colored car drove up. A tattooed hand emerged from one window, bearing a submachine gun. A second hand with an identical gun followed it—both were aimed at the two ARK officers opposite them.

Al and Ginny were perilously close to the line of fire. As bullets started flying, Ginny dragged her son down behind a parked car to shelter him. Stray shots hit the car they were crouching behind, shattering windows and spraying the two Potters with falling glass.

When it was over, an ARK officer lay dead and the gunmen drove away.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Ginny demanded.

"I'm fine," Al assured his mother, as they stood up. She still looked worried and checked him over for injuries, but found none. Apparently the shots had all missed him, much good that that did her blood pressure. Her heart was still pounding from the terror.

INSERT THEME MUSIC

"And you say you didn't get a look at the driver or his license plate?" the ARK officer asked Ginny. He hadn't been one of the ones shot at, but had arrived on the scene after the gunmen had already departed to take statements from the witnesses. He was looking at Ginny as if she was trying to give him a hard time.

She hadn't been, but she would be happy to give him one now.

"What are you saying?" the redhead demanded, her eyes flashing. His attitude was pissing her off.

"Mrs. Potter, this is normally a quiet area—"

"Quiet? Let me ask you something: Do you live around here?"

"Well, no…" he admitted.

"I do. I'm a public defender. I have been representing clients arrested in this escalating gang war against ARK. Those shooters were aiming at ARK officers, which we both know is the only reason you're investigating this damn incident! My son was almost _killed_ in _your _gang war. So don't tell me this area is safe!" Ginny grabbed Al's arm and led him towards home, leaving behind one intimidated cop.

She didn't realize they had forgotten Al's backpack behind on the sidewalk, nor did she see a hooded figure emerge from a nearby bench to collect the bag after they'd left.

~TC~

That night, Severus Snape met Gilderoy Lockhart out by the docks.

"There was a shooting on Sycamore Boulevard today," Snape began. "It was thuggish, brutal and I immediately thought of you."

Goldilocks didn't deny the accusation. He saw no reason for Snape, a.k.a. Chess, to have complete control of the city.

"One of my officers is in a morgue thanks to you!" Snape continued.

"Odd, one of my men showed up recently with his head missing. You wouldn't happen to know where it is, would you, Snape?" Gilderoy asked.

"In a cooler at ARK Tower," Severus replied dryly. If Goldilocks thought he was going to accept the retaliation as part of the status quo, he was mistaken.

"Straightforward and ruthless, I like that about you, Snape. But if you came here to ask me to be your friend—"

"I've no interest in being your friend," the CEO cut him off. "Let's be enemies! But let's do it in a way that helps both of us."

"I'm listening," Goldilocks crossed his arms over his chest.

"The business district, from ARK Tower to Sycamore, is _mine_. You can have the rest of the city."

"I don't think I've heard you correctly," the blonde put in, his eyes narrowed. What sort of game was Snape playing?

"Palm City could use a 'godfather' figure. A little fear is a good thing; it will drive the people closer to me. And the business district is the only part of the city the press cares about. Your men can operate in the rest of the city, as long as I collect twenty percent of the take," Snape offered.

_Severus, let me out_, Chess drawled.

Snape rubbed at his temple, distracted by the unexpected interruption. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Gilderoy, though the smuggler was unaware of the voice that had spoken.

"Are you alright, Snape?" Goldilocks asked.

"I'm fine," he lied. If he were fine, he wouldn't have the voice in his head.

_It's time to pull over. Let me drive, _Chess murmured. Severus closed his eyes for a moment. That voice should not be so bloody tempting.

_He doesn't respect you! Let me talk to him_, Chess pushed his advantage.

Severus wavered. He didn't want to give up control, but Chess could be persuasive.

"Those are my terms. What's it going to be?" the billionaire demanded.

"Hmm, I like the sound of 'godfather.' Alright, Severus, you have a deal," Goldilocks replied. They shook on it.

~HP~

Back at his hideout, Harry Potter was rifling through his son's backpack, his thoughts a whirl. He felt so helpless. He hadn't gotten to the scene until _after _his wife and son were nearly killed. Damn Snape! Their blood would have been on his hands.

"There was a shootout on Sycamore today," Harry informed his partner, who was sitting at his computer. "ARK officers were the targets but Ginny and Al were nearly killed in the crossfire. And they were only a couple of blocks from their home!"

"The gang war is being stepped up," Hermione replied, not looking away from the screen where she was playing Solitaire. "No part of the city is safe anymore."

"I want you to see what information you can find about the gang, the shooters—"

"In a minute," the blogger replied, as she made another move in her game.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry asked. "My family was nearly killed today and you're playing a card game? You haven't posted anything to your blog in the past four days."

"Yeah, well I married a corpse. Shouldn't I get a honeymoon?" Hermione snapped back. She didn't mean to lash out at Harry, but she hadn't gotten over her ordeal with the Dark Lord, yet. The man had kidnapped her, used paralytics and hallucinogens on her, had tried to force her to marry him, had nearly killed her…and her father hadn't been there.

He hadn't rescued her, hadn't swooped in to make everything right. He didn't even know that any of it had happened to her. To make matters worse, thanks to her hallucinations she was now confronted with her feelings for the man that had rescued her.

She had a crush on her partner. Maybe it was more than that, she could even be in love with him, and he was a married man, doing his best to get back to his family. She didn't feel much like being his sidekick at the moment.

"I have to go, Harry," Hermione said, as she headed out the door.

Before Harry could decide whether he should go after Orwell, Tonks came rushing through the entrance, her hands covered in crimson.

"Tonks, is that your blood?" Harry asked.

"It's not mine, its Ron's. He's badly hurt, Harry! Come with me, quick!"

~HP~

Inside the tent at Trolley Park, Harry grimaced at the sight of his best friend. Ron's face was covered in blood, but he was alive and awake. Moody was tending to his injuries.

"What happened, Ron?" Harry asked.

"Goldilocks' men; they think Mad-Eye's the mayor of Trolley Park. They want to muscle in; said Mad-Eye has to start paying him protection money."

"Looks like we've stayed here too long," Sirius pronounced.

Tonks turned to look at him, her eyes wide.

"What? We live in a tent for a reason," Sirius added.

"Black has a point. We don't put down roots," Moody acknowledged.

"Now wait a minute," Harry said. Outside of the Carnival of Crime, the only person that knew that Harry Potter was still alive was his partner, Orwell. (He didn't count enemies like the assassins, Fred and George.) Ron had become one of his best friends. Mad-Eye was his mentor. They couldn't just leave him!

"This doesn't concern you, _cop_," Sirius spat the last word as if it were an obscenity.

"You know something," Harry turned to Sirius, "there's a lot around here that I pretend not to see. Maybe I should stop pretending!"

"I don't need this." Sirius turned his back to Potter and addressed Mad-Eye. "I'm a thief, not a gang member. We don't need to get involved in this war." Finished talking, he stalked off.

Tonks bit her lip and addressed their leader.

"Are we pulling up stakes?"

~TC~

The next day, Severus Snape paid a visit to Dr. Albus Dumbledore.

"Your blood pressure's high," Dumbledore informed him, before removing the cuff from the billionaire's arm. "Maybe you should have a lemon drop."

"I don't want a lemon drop," Severus declined. One of these days, he was going to lose his patience.

"Alright, what's bothering you?" Dumbledore asked, before plopping a lemon drop in his own mouth.

"I had a visit from him: Chess."

"I see."

"Chess used to be an amusement, but we've grown apart," Severus explained. "I mean that quite literally. He's showing up unannounced now. I can't have that."

"He?" Albus questioned.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You said '_he.'_ You're talking about Chess as if he's a different person," Dumbledore pointed out.

"He started it," Snape replied, the corner of his lips twitching.

"I'd like to talk with him," Dumbledore announced.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Albus."

"Why wouldn't it be? We're not exactly strangers."

"He doesn't like you," Snape explained.

Chess was suspicious of all therapists. He was not interested in someone trying to make him disappear or, for that matter, in any attempts to diagnose them as insane. (And if Dumbledore were to make the mistake of offering Chess a lemon drop, well, Chess couldn't be held responsible for his actions.)

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm still going to have to have a chat with him, Severus. Doctor's orders," he insisted, a twinkle in his blue eyes.

**Author's Notes: Thanks to IronAmerica for beta-ing.  
**

**Oh, look. I managed to write a version in which Orwell isn't crazy. How about that?**

**Thanks to dem bones, Orwell, and IronAmerica for reviewing!**

**Remember, if you want to read more, review.**


	9. Carrow Part Two: The Cape Is Watching

_Carrow Part Two: The Cape Is Watching_

"Ron, what are you doing out of bed? You're supposed to be resting!" Harry berated his recently-injured friend.

"I'm Mad-Eye's 'enforcer,' Harry. I can't just lay around the tent. I have to get out there and show Goldilocks that we're not afraid of him.

"You could help, you know."

"Me? I'm a little bit more concerned about my family being caught in a shootout."

"You're the Cape. I've read the comic books. The real Cape would see that the attack on your family and the attack on me were connected—they're both symptoms of this gang war—and he would be out there doing something about it!"

Harry stared at the redhead.

"Ron, that's just a comic book! I'm not a superhero!"

Tonks entered the tent then and frowned.

"Harry, why did you let Ron get up? You know he should be in bed!"

"He was…" Harry trailed off. How was it his fault that Ron was pushing himself too hard?

"I just heard that Goldilocks is flying in Carrow," Tonks informed them.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Amycus Carrow: A bomb expert; sounds like things are getting serious," she replied.

Ron gave Harry a look, imploring him to do _something_ to try to act up to his moniker. Harry sighed.

"What does Carrow look like?" he asked.

"No one knows," Tonks answered him.

"How can no one know?" Harry asked skeptically.

"He's never left the U.K. before. All we know is that he has some kind of scar on his face," she explained.

The wheels in Harry's head started turning.

"And that's it? Otherwise, as far as Goldilocks knows, he could look like anyone?" he asked. Tonks nodded. Harry turned to Ron.

"I'm going to need a crash course in bomb making."

~TC~

One extremely compressed course later, Harry was waiting back at his hideout. Finally, the door opened and his partner strolled in.

"You're late. You said you'd be right over—that was two hours ago," Harry complained.

"Maybe it took me a little longer to get the stuff than I thought it would," Hermione returned, completely unapologetic. She rolled up his shirt and started strapping a wire on. "It's copper-flex wire. You shouldn't have to worry about pat-downs, although obviously a strip search would give you away, as would a metal detector. Try to stay away from magnets."

She pulled away at last and, to her disappointment, Harry pulled his shirt back down. Her face flushed and she turned her back to him.

"Orwell, what's going on? I know your heart hasn't been in the work lately."

"Drop it Harry," she said quietly.

"If you don't work through whatever is bothering you, you won't be able to protect the city from Snape!"

Steps from the door, Hermione froze. That was part of the problem. She was no longer sure she wanted to keep fighting against her father. She faced Harry.

"Get out of my head," she said firmly, "or find a new partner." With that, she turned and left.

~TC~

Sirius entered Mad-Eye's trailer.

"My brother, Regulus, found a job for me upstate. It's not great, but it's a start. I've already started packing."

"Sirius," Moody growled.

"I'm leaving, Mad-Eye. I want my share of the Montecarlo heist before I go. You want to stay here with the cop, that's your business."

"I'm a thief, same as you are, Black. Do I strike you as particularly patient, compassionate or charitable? I'm not! Angelo Dundee trained Muhammad Ali. Mad-Eye Moody has been training Harry Potter."

"Good for you, but—"

"You never asked me what I was training him for!" Moody barked.

"Whatever it is, it doesn't concern me," Sirius said, turning to leave the trailer.

"Delacour,"* Moody said, stopping Black in his tracks.

Sirius turned and stared at Mad-Eye. Then he shook his head.

"You don't mean that. You're just saying that to string me along so I won't leave yet."

"Am I?" Moody asked.

Before Sirius could reply, Harry barged through the door of the trailer.

"I've got a plan to strike back at Goldilocks and ARK, but I need your help," Potter announced.

Sirius held Moody's gaze for a moment before answering.

"Well, I guess I'll be staying around a little longer, then."

~TC~

One of Goldilocks' men was driving Amycus Carrow from the airport to Lockhart's warehouse. The street was deserted but for the car and a taxi that was gaining on them.

"Do you have kids, Carrow?" the driver asked.

The collision interrupted their conversation. The taxi, in an apparent attempt to pass the other vehicle, had crashed into it and now blocked the way. The taxi driver jumped out of the cab and started screaming at them in Russian.**

"Speak English," Goldilocks' minion yelled back.

Sirius Black went right up to the driver's window, abruptly stopped shouting, and put him in a trance.

"You picked him up from the airport and drove straight to the warehouse," Sirius hypnotized the man, who was oblivious to what was happening in the backseat.

When the gangster came to, Sirius and the cab were gone. He adjusted his rear view mirror and glanced back at his passenger.

"So as I was saying…er, what was I saying?"

"Just drive mate," Harry told him, sounding impatient.

~TC~

Goldilocks smiled as he entered the main room of the warehouse. The smuggler addressed the leather clad man sitting before him.

"So you're Carrow."

"Nah, I'm the freakin' Dalai Lama," Harry replied. He'd slicked back his hair and had used makeup to create the illusion of a scar along the right side of his face. He was doing his best to disguise his voice. As long as he didn't drop into a rasp, he was pretty sure Goldilocks wouldn't put him together with the Cape.

Hopefully pretending to be Carrow wouldn't be too difficult.

"I understand your exploits have made quite the number of headlines back in England," Gilderoy said.

"No more'n the headlines your organization makes over 'ere," Potter returned.

"Quite right; forgive me, but that scar looks horrible. Was there nothing that could be done about it?"

"Wouldn't want to; chicks dig scars," Harry said, winking.

Lockhart beamed.

"Do you know? I think you'll fit right in! Smith, come here! Let's show Carrow the space you set up for him."

The three men ascended the stairs to the second story of the warehouse and headed down a hallway to the makeshift laboratory.

"Smith, did you get the bat guano?" Gilderoy asked, naming of one the rarer ingredients that Carrow had requested before leaving for Palm City.

"Yes," Smith asserted.

Gilderoy wrinkled his nose as they entered the lab.

"I tell you, Carrow, if it weren't for your sterling reputation, I'd think you were mad. Anyhow, I'll leave you to it."

Alone, Harry examined the space. Supplies had been set up on the table that dominated the room, but he was more interested in the cracked window that overlooked the lower level of the warehouse that he'd just come from.

Yes, this would be the perfect place for spying on the smuggler.

~TC~

Meanwhile, back at ARK Tower, Severus Snape sat in Dumbledore's office. Albus had persuaded him to retrieve the box with Chess' contacts from the penthouse. The doctor waited outside while Severus opened the box pensively. The billionaire looked at the cosmetic contacts. He still thought this was a bad idea, but…well, Chess had wanted a chance to drive.

When Albus reentered his office, Chess was sitting behind the desk, waiting for him, an old fashioned pen in his hand.

"Do you know," Chess drawled, "that it would take about seven seconds for me to use this pen to sever one of your arteries? Removing, say, one of your corneas would take a little longer, about sixteen minutes." He lifted his chin, silently daring the bearded man to give him a reason he shouldn't do just that.

Unperturbed, Dumbledore pointedly looked at his watch and counted to seven.

"I seem to still have my corneas," Albus observed. "So how about we talk about you and Severus? You know that Severus is unhappy when you just start talking to him like you did the other night. You want him to be happy, don't you?"

Chess sneered. Yes, he wanted Severus to be happy, but that didn't mean he was going to disappear. Severus needed him.

"There are doors that are currently closed to you," Albus continued, "doors which I can open. Interested?"

Chess lowered the pen slightly. Dumbledore had his attention.

~TC~

Mad-Eye strolled into Goldilocks' conference room. Ron had told Moody earlier that the smuggler had demanded a sit-down with him. Goldilocks thought he was the mayor of Trolley Park? Fine; then he'd act the part.

Moody took a seat at the table. Goldilocks sat down, too. There were a few other men there, Zacharias Smith being one of them. Moody didn't recognize the man in the purple turban.

"This is Quirrell," Goldilocks made the introductions.

"P-pleased to m-meet you, M-Mad-Eye," Quirrell said.

"Quirrell suffered a brain injury as the result of an altercation a few years back. He's been stuttering ever since,"*** Gilderoy explained to Moody.

Quirrell, apparently, led a rival gang, but had negotiated a truce with Goldilocks. Gilderoy hoped to reach a similar arrangement with Mad-Eye.

"How's Carrot Top?" Goldilocks inquired, referring to Ron.

"He'll live, no thanks to your thugs," Moody growled.

"Ginger Spice**** had it coming," Gilderoy asserted. "Trolley Park is prime real estate and you haven't been paying taxes to me. From now on, you're going to give me forty percent of everything you take in."

The magician stood up from the table.

"Contact me again when you're ready to make a serious offer. And consider this, Goldilocks: By profession, I make things disappear. Sometimes, they don't come back." With that, Mad-Eye threw down a smoke pellet and disappeared from the room.

"I love it when he does that," Goldilocks smiled.

~TC~

Severus Snape opened his black eyes (no longer obscured by the blue contacts) and discovered that he was lying down on Dumbledore's couch.

"Welcome back," Dumbledore said as Snape sat up.

"What happened? How did it go with Chess?"

"Chess won't be bothering you anymore," Dumbledore assured him, his blue eyes twinkling merrily.

"Oh?" Snape raised an eyebrow. "What's Chess getting out of that?"

"Severus, listen to me: There is no Chess. There's just you. You don't have to distance yourself from the parts of you that are dark. There's good and evil inside all of us."

"Right; what did you promise him?"

"Severus, Chess is gone. Look inside yourself. Look for the place you usually sense Chess. What do you feel?"

Obligingly, Snape closed his eyes and looked inwards. Then he opened his eyes, stunned.

"There's nothing there. I can't feel him," Snape admitted.

"That is as close to a happy ending as we get in my profession," Dumbledore said, smiling as he walked Snape to the door.

The billionaire might have gotten his degrees in engineering, rather than psychology, but he was quite sure that you couldn't get rid of a second personality by offering it tea and lemon drops and asking him to politely go away. Severus paused and looked at the older man.

"Albus, I've known you a long time. I respect you. So I want you to heed me: _Never_ lie to me." Snape spread his hands, communicating this wasn't up to him. "I can only tell you that once," he warned the doctor, before departing the office.

~TC~

That evening, the Cape showed up to thwart a heist that Goldilocks' and Quirrell's gangsters had teamed up for. Harry had learned about the location and time of the plot by eavesdropping on the two leaders earlier in the day.

Now the vigilante hoisted Smith up with his cape and told him to listen closely.

~TC~

"He said _what_?" Gilderoy demanded of Smith, who had returned to the warehouse with news of the foiled plans.

"He said: 'Tell the Ken Doll that ARK may be blind, but the Cape is watching,'" Zacharias repeated.

Goldilocks cursed.

"How the hell does he know what I'm up to as soon as I do?" _Oh, great._ He could see Quirrell getting out of a car outside. He did not look happy.

Lockhart left the warehouse to go greet Quirrell, who was carrying his turban in his hands.

"What t-the hell h-happened to-tonight?" Quirrell demanded.

"Now, it's just a minor setback," Goldilocks began.

"R-really? B-because it sounds t-to me as though y-you've got a l-leak in y-your organization. I-if you d-don't f-find it and plug it u-up, you can f-forget w-working together!" With that, Quirrell slammed his turban onto his head. Then he grimaced and pulled it off.

"What t-the f-f-…?"

Goldilocks looked from Quirrell's head to the inside of the turban which, if he wasn't mistaken, was covered in bat guano. The blonde narrowed his eyes.

Meanwhile, in the shadows of the warehouse, Harry dumped an empty container in the rubbish bin.

~TC~

The next day, Harry set up a miniature camera as Vernon Dursley from ARK entered the warehouse, demanding to collect the money that Goldilocks had promised Snape.

Gilderoy handed Vernon an envelope full of cash. Dursley frowned.

"This should be heavier," he insisted.

"We ran into some unforeseen difficulties, involving the Cape—"

"I don't want to listen to your excuses!" Dursley cut him off. "Whatever happened shouldn't affect the weight of this envelope.

"Look: You leave the business district alone, kick twenty percent of your take over to Snape and ARK, and the rest of the city is yours. That's not only fair, that's generous," Dursley admonished the smuggler.

~TC~

"What are you doing?" Smith asked Potter, who had been watching and recording the whole scene from above. Harry, turning away from the window, shrugged off the question.

"Who is the Cape?" Harry asked.

"None of your concern," Smith muttered. "The right, huh?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your scar's on the right side of your face," Smith observed.

"Yeah, so?" Harry asked.

"It's funny, 'cause when you called, you said we'd recognize you at the airport 'cause of the scar on the _left_ side of your face," Smith informed him.

"You must have misheard me," Harry said.

"For your sake, I better have. Now come on, Goldilocks wants to see you."

"I'll be there in a minute."

"I don't think you understood me. You're coming, _now_!"

~TC~

Back at Trolley Park, Sirius looked up at the noise he'd heard. He went to investigate the source of the sound and grimaced.

The cage that they'd been keeping the real Carrow in was empty. The prisoner had managed to blow up the lock and he'd escaped.

Now it was just a matter of time until Goldilocks discovered it wasn't the real Carrow in his midst.

~TC~

"You wanted to see me?" Harry asked Goldilocks.

"Pack your stuff. We're going to blow up Moody's tent tonight. Maybe then he'll learn how to respect the city's Godfather."

"Not a bad plan, mate," Harry said.

Goldilocks' dazzling smile faltered. He approached Potter.

"It was your plan," Gilderoy reminded 'Carrow.'

"Like I said, not a bad one," Harry tried to cover his slip.

"Right; Smith, escort our friend this way, please."

~TC~

Goldilocks had Harry sit at the conference table with Smith and some of his other men. In the center of the table was a cake. One piece of the cake was missing.

"Smith, for your loyalty, you get a piece of cake," Goldilocks said, putting a slice in front of him. Gilderoy proceeded to give out slices to his getaway drivers. Another slice was given to some slob sitting next to Harry, "for his fashion sense," Gilderoy said jokingly.

"You see, to get a piece of cake, you have to have demonstrated your trustworthiness. You'll notice there's a piece of cake missing," Gilderoy announced to the room. "That's because there's a rat in our midst."

On cue, the real Amycus Carrow walked in. (Sure enough, the left side of his face was scarred.)

Gilderoy whirled on Potter.

"No cake for you. Get him!"

**Footnotes/Author's Note:**

***The line in the episode was "Deveraux." I am not elaborating on it in the text as it was one of the loose threads we were left with when the show was cancelled. However, IronAmerica created a backstory for the character of Deveraux for her fic "Time Again." With IronAmerica's permission, I have borrowed Deveraux for some of my fics, modifying the backstory where convenient.**

****The Russian is a nod to Gary Oldman's character in the 1997 movie: "Air Force One." Do yourself a favor and rent it. (Yes, I mean you.)**

***** I've checked, and while it may not be a common cause of stuttering, it does happen. **

****** Ugh, Spice Girls reference. I do hope that any redheaded readers will not take offense. I nearly went with Hendricks from "The Dresden Files," but don't know whether Gilderoy would have been familiar with the novels.**

**Thanks to IronAmerica for beta-ing the chapter! And thank you to dem bones, IronAmerica, and Orwell for reviewing!**

**You know the drill.**


	10. Carrow Pt 3: Theatricality and Deception

_Carrow Part Three: Theatricality and Deception_

"He's gone," Sirius Black informed the other members of the Carnival of Crime. "Carrow has escaped."

"But," Tonks' eyes went wide, "if Goldilocks finds out Harry's an imposter, he'll torture him!"

"We have to save him!" Ron didn't like the idea of any harm befalling his friend.

"Says who?" Sirius asked. If Potter was taken out, perhaps things would go back to normal.

"Are you kidding?" Ron glared at the dark-haired man. "Harry's our friend. If he's tortured, they may find out his secret." He shuddered. If his friend's secret identity came out, Lockhart would have him killed for sure. "The Cape is a hero—"

"Then let the Cape save him," Sirius interrupted Weasley. He rather wished that they had never dragged Potter to Trolley Park in the first place.

But his words gave Moody an idea.

"Black is onto something; the Cape will save him," Mad-Eye pronounced, confusing his followers. He explained to them his plan.

~TC~

Back at the warehouse, the smuggler's men had bound Harry to a chair and begun beating him up.

Gilderoy was wondering who the imposter actually was. He had a theory on that.

"The only way I can explain the Cape knowing what we were planning in advance," Goldilocks mused aloud, advancing on the prisoner, "is that the black bird was hiding in our midst, spying on us. It's you, isn't it?

"And you're the one that pulled that little joke on Quirrell the other night. This next bit was his idea," the smuggler added, holding up a container of acid.

Harry trembled in fear. _Acid_; they were going to pour _acid_ on him? All he'd done was cover Quirrell's turban in bat guano! They were seriously overreacting.

Before Goldilocks could begin disfiguring the vigilante, the lights abruptly went out, plunging everyone into darkness. There was just enough light left for the men to make out the silhouette of a hooded figure near the control board. The figure rushed the thugs, knocking men out of his way. A familiar-looking cape pried the prisoner free from the chair, before rescuer and rescuee disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Goldilocks digested this new information. It appeared he'd been wrong. Whoever had been pretending to be Carrow was not the Cape after all, but the smuggler now had another suspect in mind.

~TC~

Back in Mad-Eye's trailer, Harry expressed his gratitude to his savior. Potter knew that if Mad-Eye hadn't shown up in the nick of time with the cape, he'd be a goner.

"Thank you for saving me, Mad-Eye!"

"You're welcome, Potter," the Carnival's ringleader nodded. He and Tonks had already looked the young man over for injuries. It appeared he was relatively unscathed and would be able to go back to acting as the vigilante whenever he wanted. Moody gestured the hero towards the door.

Harry stopped and made eye contact with his mentor, his expression earnest.

"Mad-Eye, I don't forget," Harry insisted. He wasn't like Snape, who, far from being grateful, had put a price on the head of his rescuer within a week. Harry knew when he owed someone and he intended on paying his debts. He tried to convey that to the man who had just saved his life.

Satisfied that the message was received, Harry left the trailer at last. Unbeknownst to him, Mad-Eye already knew just what he would ask Potter to do for him in return.

~TC~

Harry, back at his hideout, sat in front of his computer with a phone pressed to his ear. He couldn't wait to tell Orwell the good news.

"Hello, Orwell? I've got it!" Harry grinned. "I've finally got the evidence that will bring Snape down. I'm uploading the exclusive video to your blog now." His heart soared as he posted the video he'd taken of Vernon Dursley accepting money from Goldilocks. This was the break he'd been looking for. This, surely, would send him home in no time.

"Snape's history," Harry told his partner.

~TC~

Hermione eyed the empty beer bottles around her as she replied to him.

"That's great, Harry," she mumbled, before cutting the connection. The news that her secret crush might be able to head back to his wife and that her father was about to be in hot water did nothing to lift her spirits.

Maybe her father had it coming, but the thought of her blog being his downfall no longer appealed to her.

She went off in search of more beer. She would rather feel numb than depressed.

~TC~

The next morning, Albus Potter sighed as he retrieved the backpack left for him on the fire escape. He had no excuse for not doing his assignments now. Probably just as well. He didn't think his teacher would believe "the Cape stole my homework."

**Author's Note: And so ends the HP version of episode nine.**

**Thanks to IronAmerica, my beta, for giving me the green-light to post the chapter! And thanks to Orwell and IA for reviewing!**

**Everyone recognize the source of the chapter title? **

**-Suit up; fight back.**


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